Free Marrying Harriet by MC Beaton Page B

chariot?’
    ‘Something like that,’ said Harriet with a grin.
    ‘There is, however, the post. Had you not thought of writing a letter to this seducer?’
    ‘My French is poor, very poor, and I could hardly ask my tutor to write such a delicate matter for me.’
    She looked at him pleadingly, her eyes very wide and blue.
    Again he felt that bubbling feeling of amusement. ‘Find me pen and paper, Miss Brown,’ he said, ‘and I will write a letter.’
    Soon he was sitting at an escritoire in the corner of the room while Harriet stood behind him, watching eagerly as he wrote busily. He was conscious of her standing close behind him, he could feel the heat emanating from her body. ‘Is that the way one spells “deception”?’ he asked. Harriet leaned forward. He had the letter half shielded by his arm. She bent lower until her face was on a level with his own. He could feel a tendril of her hair brushing his cheek.
    ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Harriet. ‘It is spelt like the English way, although I suppose you know it means “disappointment”. From the little French I have learned, I know that much.’
    He turned his face quickly and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She started back as though he had bitten her and scrubbed at her cheek.
    ‘You should not have done that,’ said Harriet furiously. ‘Please leave and never come here again.’
    He swung round and smiled at her maliciously. ‘A fine reformer you are, Miss Harriet Brown. You would cast me out and leave me to my old ways. I apologize, but old habits die hard. Now, are you not even curious to know how I coerced my uncle into paying court to the Tribble sisters?’
    ‘Yes, I am curious,’ said Harriet. ‘But you must behave yourself in future, my lord. Is that clear?’
    ‘Very clear, ma’am. I am all repentance. I kiss the hem of your gown.’ He half-rose to his feet.
    ‘No!’ said Harriet sternly. ‘Sit down there and finish that letter and then tell me about your uncle.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He finished writing, sanded the letter, promised to post it after he had found out the address of the Comte De Ville, and then told her about the bargain he had struck with his uncle.
    ‘Oh, dear,’ said Harriet. ‘That sounds a little bit like blackmail.’
    ‘No, it is a comfortable arrangement to everyone’s satisfaction. The Tribbles will be rejuvenated by his attentions, I assure you.’
    ‘We’ll see,’ said Harriet doubtfully. ‘But I have not asked you how you go on.’
    ‘Tolerably, Miss Brown. I spend my nights gambling and drinking deep and my days are passed in recovering from the nights.’
    She looked saddened and disappointed, so he said quickly, ‘But of course, this sterling female you are going to find for me will change all that.’
    ‘I am beginning to wonder if you should marry at all,’ replied Harriet.
    ‘But I must! It will be the making of me. And why should I do all the work – writing letters to seducers and persuading my elderly uncle to go courting? It is high time you did something for me.’
    ‘I shall try to find you someone,’ said Harriet. ‘We are to attend a musicale this evening. Surely there will be someone there. And now I think you should take your leave.’
    He kissed her hand and left with the cat at his heels.
    As he strolled down the steps to his carriage, he noticed a sandy-haired man and a drab-looking female walking up and down. He was sure they had been there the last time he had called.
    They noticed his sharp scrutiny and walked quickly away. He stood for a moment looking after them.
    From a closed carriage at the corner of the street, Jack Perkins watched his former friend. He would find out who lived at that address.
    Miss Spiggs and ‘Dr’ Frank did not speak until they were in Oxford Street.
    ‘He looked at us so strangely,’ said Miss Spiggs nervously. ‘Do you think he is suspicious?’
    ‘Shouldn’t think so,’ said Frank. ‘We’ll wait a bit and go back. We now know